Chapter 2

Swaying in rhythm to the horse's gait Ciri willed herself to stay awake against Geralt's broad back. They had been riding since dawn, after a short but tearful farewell at Yurga's cottage Geralt had lifted her to his horse and began their journey. Cold misty air whipped past them as they rode, stinging at her face and any bit of exposed skin that wasn't shielded by the large leather jacket Geralt let her wear. One look at her thin clothes Goldencheeks loaned her, the witcher let out a disapproving growl before unpacking a spare jacket from his horse's pack. Swallowed by the heavy black leather Ciri couldn't stop the smile of contentment from spreading across her lips. It felt good to be warm, but more importantly it felt good to be protected again.

Thankful for their positions Ciri looked up to see the back of the witcher's head as they rode. His pale white hair fell to the middle of his shoulder blades, damp from the dreary misty air. When she was younger, she was often teased by the other children noble and peasant alike for her ashen hair, calling it a sign of a curse. When her nanny had told her in secret about the man she was destined to, she had told Ciri of the witcher's white hair and great strength. Although she never admitted it to anyone, the similar trait shared between this revered man and herself had comforted her.

"Ciri," the sudden deep sound of his voice startled her. It had been hours since they left Yurga's cottage, though she couldn't be sure since there was hardly any sunlight in the gray cloudy sky, but not once did Geralt speak.

"Yes, sir?" she answered obediently. If it were anyone else, she would have never added the honorific. She was heir to Cintra, she was taught since the moment she could speak that people were to show her respect not the other way around. But that was no longer her reality. Casting a downward glance, she tried to stamp away the pain in her chest at the reminder. Cintra was lost to her and she was princess to nothing. With no skills that would provide any use beyond the castle walls she learned the hard way more than once that her aristocratic demeanor was unwelcome in the real world.

"We are coming up on marsh land," he paused momentarily and Ciri got the impression as if his statement was supposed to mean something. Worriedly, she tried to guess at the significance of his words.

The silence stretched for a second longer, making her feel awkward and self-conscious.

Finally he continued. "Marshes, swamps, bogs, and ponds, pretty much any small stagnant body of water are rife with monsters," he explained. Ciri's grip clenched tighter at his sides.

Having kept herself upright all morning to prevent herself from leaning on his back as he rode, Ciri had maintained her grip to the witcher by grasping only the sides of his armor. She did not think the large warrior would appreciate her clutching on to him. Looking around, she noticed the trees beginning to thin as they approached the flooded low lands. The tall tufting blanket of green grass belied its wet swampy nature making it almost appear like a green field rather than the soggy wet mess it truly was.

"I will get down from Roach and lead you both through. I want you to listen to me carefully and do exactly as I say," he paused, turning his head ever so slightly she could see his strong profile as he waited for her to acknowledge him.

Her grip on his armor tightened. "Yes, of course," she rushed to answer.

"If we encounter anything you will not scream and you will not come down from Roach. You will simply hold onto him and allow him to take you wherever he goes. If you two are in danger trust that he will run to safety."

"Yes, sir," she answered softly, dreading the thought of possibly being separated from the witcher.

After getting down and pulling a sword from his sheath, Geralt grabbed Roach's reins and began leading them down the sloping incline into water. With only the sound of their sloshing steps, Geralt led them through the marsh. Birds cawed in the distance, safely perched in their trees away from the constant miserable drizzle. Dim gray sunlight fought to pierce through the dismal clouds giving them brief moments of light before losing the battle yet again behind the oppressive damp clouds. With her eyes jumping all over the place, Ciri tried to mimic the man sloshing through thigh-high water. Calmly and expertly his eyes scanned every detail of the horizon while occasionally glancing behind them. She wanted to speak, but she knew better.

Eventually they made their way up a muddy slope that edged the other side of the forest. With a heavy sigh, Ciri felt a huge portion of her energy drain from her body in payment for her relief. Getting down from the horse, she waited as Geralt pulled a strip of cloth from Roach's pack and dried himself off before pulling back onto the horse and reaching down for her. Seated once again behind him, she shifted uncomfortably as she tried to maintain a gap between them.

The warm grip suddenly covering each of her hands gave her no time to react before she was jerked forward. With a thud, her chest thumped against his broad back while her hands were placed over his stomach.

"Relax," he gently ordered. "If you value to the ability of being able to walk tomorrow you will need to relax. Our journey is long and we have a week of riding ahead of us at least."

With no choice, Ciri turned her head and laid her cheek against his broad back. The cool rough feeling of his leather armor scraping gently against her soft skin was surprisingly comfortable.

"Yes, sir," she murmured, fatigue instantly setting in with the comfort of the new position.

"And call me Geralt," her added.

After a few minutes Geralt could feel the girl's arms around his waist slacken in sleep, though she did not let go. Despite her proud efforts it was easy to read the longing for comfort in her big gray eyes when she looked at him. Fear, exhaustion, and confusion he could sense she had been through a lot before he finally found her. All facts that drove guilt like nails into his soul. He should have taken her with him long ago, once he saw through Calanthe's deception, but no, he decided to fight destiny and rebuke the facts and now they were both worse for wear for it. Glancing down at the pale fingers lightly clasping his jacket he resisted the urge to cover them with his own. Gathering himself with a shake of his head, he concentrated on the path ahead of them and spurred Roach into a faster pace. He did not have time for regrets and certainly no time for sentimentality. His role in life was now changed, he had his child of surprise and it was now his duty to keep her safe.

Opening her eyes, Ciri let her vision adjust to the scenery around them. No longer on the main trail they moved slowly through the densely packed forest. Thankfully the trees were narrow and tall with most of their branches starting well above their heads allowing them to pass safely through without the fear of being swiped off.

"Good, you're awake," Geralt's rough voice spoke from ahead of her. "We will make camp up ahead."

Thank God. She had to pee for the past few hours but did not know how to say it to the man. She feared the man's reaction to calling a sudden halt in their journey. With only a few streams of dying gray light piercing the sopping wet woods, they rode into a tiny clearing and stepped down from Roach, who gave a relieved grunt. Patting the horse affectionately, Geralt murmured conversationally to the horse as he tied the animal to a tree.

Barely able to hold it any longer, Ciri lifted her billowing pants legs and began to take a running step forward when a strong grip shot out and captured her upper arm. Confused and so very desperate to pee she turned and gave Geralt a desperate look that hopefully conveyed without words just how much she needed to go.

Dawning realization colored his eyes just before a slashing grin spread across his firm lips, though his hold on her arm remained firm. "I understand, however nothing is more dangerous than being caught by some ghoul or other monster with your pants down. Trust me, I speak from experience."

Horrified and a bit embarrassed the overwhelming urge to pee lessened a bit at the terrifying prospect.

Chuckling, Geralt stepped in front of her but motioned her to follow. "First you must scan the area with all senses. Ask yourself, have the birds stopped singing suddenly? Is it too quiet? It's not always what you hear, it's what you don't hear." Glancing back at her, she gave him a swift nod to tell him she was listening. Giving a grunt of approval he continued forward until he stopped at a broad tree. "Always put something at your back, be quick, and stay alert. Once you're done, I'll have a turn myself."

Stepping just a couple paces away he turned around, scanning the area. After a couple of seconds Ciri realized in horror the man meant to stand there as she went!

"Don't give me that look," his said knowingly, not even turning around. "I can feel your shock. If you want to survive you will learn to shelve your modesty."

Unable to resist letting out an agitated huff, Ciri turned and positioned herself near the large tree. Being as quick as possible she traded places with the witcher, not daring for a second to look up at the man. She didn't need to see his pale face and amber eyes to know he was smirking at her ire.

For a week now they travelled, mostly through forgotten overgrown paths or making his own route through the forest. When she asked why they did not travel the main roads he answered her question much like he answered any other question she posed, with a question of his own.

"Who is in charge of keeping the roads safe?"

She might not know a lot about monsters and survival beyond the castle walls but Ciri knew a lot about royal governance. Sitting straighter against him she answered clearly. "The soldiers of the presiding kingdom."

"Mmm, and in times of war which soldiers are the first ones the kingdom pull back on?"

"The roads," she answered, this time with much less enthusiasm as she unwilling thought of the slaughter of Cintra by Nilfgaard soldiers.

"These days the roads between kingdoms are the most unsafe, filled with low rank monsters feeding on the helpless and brigands capturing any of the ones who make it past the monsters." Turning his head to look off in the distance at their left, Ciri could see his left eye narrow as if watching something in the distance. Today was another rain drenched day, following his line of sight she tried her best to squint through the misty trees and catch anything but all she saw was more of the same-wet rainy forest. Satisfied by what he saw or didn't see, Geralt eventually turned to face ahead. "I would rather very much not to have to leave a trail of corpses behind us to Temeria."

"But I thought you told Yurga we were headed towards Rivia?" she asked confused now.

"I lied," he answered simply.

Seeing that he had no intention on expounding further Ciri shifted to the side slightly in the saddle so that she could stare impatiently the side of his gruff profile.

Without moving his head an inch, she watched his eye move until he caught her stare. Smirking he looked back ahead, over Roach's swaying head, to the path he set.

"I had to account for any Nilfgaard tracking you down to Yurga's cottage," he replied evenly. "I could not take the chance that they would not tell your location if they were caught."

Ciri gasped. The thought of gentle Goldencheeks and jovial Yurga being caught because of her took the wind from her lung.

Putting a hand over hers, he pressed it tightly to his abdomen. "Don't," he commanded roughly, turning slightly in the saddle until she could see one amber eye staring at her.

Shaking her head at him, she tried to pull her hand from beneath his overpowering grip. Didn't he understand, they would be killed because of her?!

"But it would be my fault!" she cried, frustrated that he would not allow her to move but frustrated that she never considered her chance meeting of the kind woman at the market could possibly lead to her death.

"We do not know if they will be harmed, it was simply a precaution," there was a finality to his tone that told her he was done speaking of this.

Bit Ciri did not care, couldn't he see how cruel he was being? Yurga and his family sheltered them in a time of need! "But what if they are?" she argued. "What if they do come for them?!"

Slowing Roach down to climb up a steep muddy incline, Ciri waited for the witcher to eventually reply.

"Then we can only hope they do not," he said dryly. "Unless you have a plan on how to fight the Nilfgaard army."

Snapping her head around so that she didn't have to see even a portion of his face, Ciri raised her chin and stared adamantly at the soggy trees beyond. Changing her grip from around his waist until she only held a handful of the material at his sides she thought of the whispered rumors she had heard about him.

"You are as heartless as they say," she muttered.

The rumbling growling sound in his throat sounded initially sounded like a response of anger but as they road in silence she imagined the man's impassive amber gaze and realized it was a sound of agreement.